Bottleneck
by Fairytale Warrior
Summary: A catastrophic fight with Flowey unearths a few terrible secrets that Sans, with his brother hanging on by an old and saturated thread, is forced to face alone.
1. It was a bad idea, to be fair

_Flowey Is Not A Good Life Coach_ by unrestedjade _has been killing me and this resulted from their story on AO3. It can be read as a standalone but makes less sense that way. I may or may not add more..._

 _I really wanted to play with monster physiology and theoretical medical practice and sappy whump. I am sorry._

* * *

 _[sans]_

It was a race against time to stabilize Papyrus after that. Undyne had helped Sans get him settled atop a few towels on his bed, Grillby standing in the corner of the room and acting as a living furnace while Gerson tended to the young skeleton's wounds.

"These are going to scar," the old turtle had said. He'd been filling some of the heavier cracks he couldn't heal with an amalgam made of crushed bits of bone Sans had donated personally and a specially prepared collagen formula.

"I don't care as long as he'll be okay," Sans had told him. The entire time he'd held Papyrus' hand in his, gripping it like _he_ needed the lifeline.

After, they'd wrapped up the younger's remaining wounds and set him in his own bed, covered in a mountain of blankets. Alphys had arrived and set to work immediately on installing a heater for the brothers. Gerson provided Sans with a bowl of melting snow and a cloth, instructing him to keep it cool and pressed against his brother's brow until the fever broke. A few others had helped insure that the house become updated with the proper insulation so both temperature and pressure could be held with relative reliability. Sans, though with some hesitancy, had agreed to teleport people in and out of the house too.

Ideally they would put Papyrus in an incubation tube where he could be closely monitored in suspended animation and his environment properly controlled but Alphys didn't have what she needed to get any of the old ones functional again.

That left the royal scientist and her small reclusive team fortifying the skeleton household with the appropriate accommodations Papyrus would need.

Undyne had been told to go home after her hovering had almost pulled an electrode taped into the crook of the Pap's arm out. Very reluctantly she had done so and only after Gerson had promised to call her if anything happened. Grillby was next to go, not wanting to cause any trouble with the heater now installed and needing to get back to his family in the hotlands. Alphys and a few others had then taken off, needing to come up with a way of feeding Papyrus the right amount of nutrition and mana. Sans agreed to let her use his lab should she need it.

Gerson would spend the next few days at the house to provide regular healing therapy for the young skeleton and ensure that Sans was taken care of- seeing that the elder wasn't about to become unglued anytime soon.

Now, in the early morning the day after the attack, the skeletons were left alone together, listening to the wheezy snores of the old tortoise in the neighboring room. Tucked into the upper right hand corner of his brother's bed Sans watched him sleep with his hood drawn over his head.

The bags under Papyrus' eyes hurt just to look at and it seemed that every breath he braved to take caused another cough, bones shuddering under the blankets. He looked so brittle, so like chalk, as if Sans was too forceful he'd chip away in his hands. Pap's bones looked grey and tiny little craze lines formed scratches across his face and arms.

Trying futilely to swallow the thick lump in his throat Sans lifted the cloth from his brother's brow and dipped it into the bowel. The gentle trickle of water being strained reminded him of glass. Unbothered by the cold trying to bite into his hands he gently lay the freshly soaked fabric across Papyrus' forehead again.

His hand rested where it was for a moment before sliding back and over the crown of his little brother's head. With great care he rubbed his thumb back and forth, watching his expression carefully for any sign of discomfort. But Papyrus' expression was entirely at ease- expressionless, blank, refusing to let Sans in.

A deeply pained, fragmented gasp fluttered into his nonexistent lungs and he choked out, "I-I'm so so-rry, Papyrus." He folded forwards, pain drawn tight into his face like this was the most excruciating thing he'd ever experienced. Watching his brother die slowly and painfully was impossibly worse than holding his ashes.

Brow to brow Sans closed his eyes and held his little brother, his whole world, his home, his reason for living, in his hands and begged whatever higher deity was out there not to take him away again oh god please I can't take this anymore leave him alone yousadsickbastardshedidn'tdoanything _todeservethis!_

Oh geeze, he was crying now. The pressure in his chest crested and soft, terribly painful sobs broke through him with such force that he was left hiccupping. Sans curled himself around Papyrus' head, holding him as tightly as he dared, cherishing the gentle push of breath that tickled the side of his neck and jaw.

"P-Pap-" the words felt like thorns in his throat, whispered so quietly and yet still like sandpaper against his metaphorical windpipe, "s _tay_ … Oh god, _please stay_." His body shuddered through another harsh sob, tears squeezed out of his clenched eyes. Several beats of silence passed before he could speak again, running his thumbs over Papyrus's temporal bones. Opening his eyes and looking down at his prone little brother Sans whimpered, "I c-can be happ-y anywhere so long as you're there to-too, bro." His voice was thick and quavered, "I'll do whatever you want- we'll go wherever you want. Just _please_ stay," he swallowed again, trying not to choke, "you're my _home, Papyrus._ The w-world's not worth living in when you're not in it. I am begging you; stay with me."

He sniffled and hiccupped loudly, trying to fight the tears and failing. Papyrus twitched when he moved away, unsettled by the loss of contact, and breathed deeply. Sans returned to his earlier ministrations, gently petting the side of his little brother's head.

"I've got you, lil' skell," he whispered, "and I won't give up if you won't."


	2. How are souls supposed to work?

_I hadn't anticipated a second chapter but the story has a few expectant follows so I felt the need to oblige._

* * *

[Papyrus]

He couldn't decide if he felt more numb or more pained as he was roped towards the surface of consciousness. There were parts of him that ached so deeply he wanted to tear them off, the pain rising and falling like a buoy in a storm. Other places tingled on occasion as if to remind him that there was still something there. His lower left arm- from the end of the humerus to the tip of his phalanges- was a particularly constant tickle that bordered on painful after certain periods of time.

Through it all he never really felt alone. A familiar feeling lurked like a cognizant presence nearby, never straying very far for very long. To the young skeleton it was a grand reassurance to have. Being alone…was too scary to think about.

Much like the tides he'd pulled in and out of consciousness over some immeasurable length of time. Until this moment, however, Papyrus hadn't really come close to breaching the surface of the water. Merely, he'd let himself be carried along a lazy current, his body as relaxed and light as it could get given the circumstances.

But finally he'd come close enough to sense the fresh air, to see the churning waves above him. Papyrus wanted to reach out but his limbs felt heavier so close to the surface, like someone had let Undyne tie her weights to his arms. Though he heaved and struggled they stubbornly refused to budge.

So he decided to try a new tactic.

Relaxing somewhat he sent out a shy ripple from his soul, tenderly pushing against an invisible membrane that, if broken, would cause him the most unimaginable pain.

Almost immediately he received a response, warmth and familial companionship wrapping around him with all the health and strength its wielder could muster. It made his call feel so much weaker by comparison. Papyrus had hardly caused more of a disturbance than a small leaf landing on the surface.

He was dutifully checked over a few times and he used the opportunity to catch the name he was so desperately looking for.

 _Sans,_ he sleepily realized, a soft smile on his face. His recognition was awarded with an elated celebration from the much stronger soul and Papyrus felt as though he'd been gathered up in his brother's arms and tossed in the air. Happiness bloomed within his soul too and he pushed against the membrane hindering its locomotion.

He almost immediately regretted the decision when a bolt of pain split through him. Sans wrapped himself a little tighter around Papyrus, trying to protect him while he suffered.

It wasn't a smart move.

He'd gone so long without comfort to subdue his agony that Papyrus had somehow been conditioned to expect further abuse. As a result he flinched back like a scaled worm snail, but not before lashing out and forcing Sans back first. With a great deal of reluctance his brother backed off. As the pain washed over him, throbbing with increasing agony, Papyrus was driven to near-convulsing heights. An eternity later the terrible attack ended and he was left panting and sweating like a snowdrake in the hotlands.

A pitiful keening moan was dragged out of his throat. He was so tired but he hurt too much to sleep, soul burning with a terrible hellfire just remnant of the pain he'd only so recently experienced. Papyrus desperately didn't want to be alone and despite everything he made a very feeble and guilty reach for his big brother's comfort.

Sans, however, wasn't nearly as hesitant in his response and with a respectful speed scooped him up. Papyrus felt so utterly small beside his brother's blazing soul, letting it engulf him, curling up within the powerful protection it offered him. Given that he was exhausted as he was it shouldn't have surprised anyone at all that some of his suffering diffused across the fragile membrane that segregated their souls and prevented them from fusing. When his brother flinched Papyrus did too, his little soul skittering away so as not to hurt him further. Sans didn't let him get very far before dragging him back and surrounding him with a warm, fuzzy, incredibly loving blanket.

Papyrus felt like a cocoon or some sort of burrito as he was wrapped in his elder's protective embrace. Absent of the energy and will he needed to free himself the younger skeleton brother sagged, becoming as limp as a cotton doll.

For the first time in many months Papyrus felt safe, perhaps mostly because in this moment Sans was sending him not to subtle messages. He was frequently shown the color blue, rows of zig-zagging bones, blue spears, green, and bright red fabric. Sans injected some of his memories into Papyrus' and the latter struggled to process them, weighted and steadily floating back into the abyss. Greater dog and Lesser dog were patrolling the house outside, Gerson was downstairs reading a book, Undyne was in the kitchen – all of these things portrayed the same message:

 _You are safe. We are going to keep you safe. No-one is going to hurt you._

For a split second, Pap thought of Flowey and the terrible creature's face filled his mind, manic laughter echoing in the distance. It interrupted Sans' assurances. In the brief moment before his brother could contain it Papyrus felt raw fury, disgust, and concern pulse through Sans' soul. He wanted to reassure him but didn't know what to say or do. In the end he didn't need to because he was once again enveloped by the strength of his big brother's love. There was a pained tightness to the gesture and a little voice from the farthest distance reached him just seconds before he collapsed back into the black, spent of all his energy;

 _Stay with me, buddy. Please, just keep holding on for me._

Just before his consciousness left him Papyrus did the soulful equivalent of squeezing his elder brother's hand, reminding him that he had nowhere else to go. Not a second later he was once again overcome by the soft and heavy obstruction known as sleep.

* * *

 _I'm with Pap on the whole sleeping thing. [Back-flips into bed] That's it for me, g'night._


End file.
